


Tease

by RefrainGirl



Series: Be My Ineffable Valentine [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: #ineffablevalentines, Awkward Flirting, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley in Love (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Bodyswap, Clothing Kink, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Don't copy to another site, Established Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Non-Explicit, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Sexual Frustration, Sexual Tension, Sexy Crowley (Good Omens), Temptation, because honestly with Crowley owning those kinds of jeans how can Aziraphale not have one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22564000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RefrainGirl/pseuds/RefrainGirl
Summary: Day 4 of the Ineffable Valentines collection.Why did Crowley have to be so pleasant to look at?The angel tried biting his lip to prevent himself from staring too long at the reflection, but he swiftly discovered that biting his lip made the whole image ten times sexier.Why did everything have to be so sexy with Crowley?Why, why, why?Body-swapping the first time had been a brilliant move that saved their skins. But the second time... well, it just ended up leading towards someuncomfortablemoments for Aziraphale. And he did mean that quite literally.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Be My Ineffable Valentine [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619938
Comments: 11
Kudos: 84
Collections: Ineffable Valentines 2020





	Tease

**Author's Note:**

> So we've come to part 4 in the list! I can't explain how my brain works, but this idea just stuck in there and asked to be written!
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

Crowley had originally started out as a creature that was not meant to walk on two legs, and his corporation did an excellent job of proving it. He appeared to have difficulty standing upright in most scenarios, and his body was somehow able to take up more space than it looked like it was capable of. Sitting on the couch with him usually resulted in Aziraphale being trapped underneath his legs or some other part of him. Not to mention the few times he had woken up to find Crowley twined around him in an impossible spiral that should have broken his spine; but even though his corporation was capable of such drastic feats, he made do somehow. People had yet to guess at his serpentine nature, despite his peculiar actions and habits. That trademark saunter of his hadn’t brought any undesirable attention to him other than the usual swooning that Aziraphale had decided to tolerate. He could hardly blame the humans for being smitten with his demon’s swagger since he was becoming quite a sucker for it himself. Actually, Crowley’s inhuman wiggle had since turned into an apt identifier for Aziraphale whenever they got separated. All he had to do to find him was keep his eyes peeled for a stylish black jacket and the swish of slim, snakey hips.

Oh, drat. He stumbled a bit, probably over the corner of his rug and definitely not because his imaginings were now being experienced rather than just seen. He was used to watching him walk, but being inside of his corporation and _feeling_ how he moved was…

A hot blush burned its way across his, er, Crowley’s face. “This is absolutely horrible,” he said, and had to shake his head to dismiss the jolt of excitement he felt. This was him speaking, him, not Crowley. “I do hope he wakes up soon.”

Body-swapping had been an amusing idea when they were drunk right out of their tree, and last night’s escapades had been quite kinky thanks to that. But now that he was awake and blundering about the shop to prepare for the morning opening, Aziraphale wished for nothing more than to have his comfortable, plump corporation back. Walking as Crowley was a bit of a trial, something that he never fully got the hang of, and he was tired of snagging these pointed boots on every stack of books that coated his floor. It was a miracle that his sloppy attempts at maneuvering about had managed to fool everyone Downstairs when it counted. Then again, with the way he was swaying this way and that, trying so hard not to trip over his own feet, it didn’t look that much different from the demon’s usual gait anyway.

Stooping to rearrange the fallen books made Crowley’s jeans squeeze viciously at his lower half, and that in turn made him groan into the back of his hand. Tight, it was so very _tight_ and restricting and how could Crowley function normally while wearing these garments!?

This was slow, painful torture. That’s what this was.

Aziraphale wondered if Crowley was feeling similarly towards being stuck in his corporation, as well. He recognized that his clothing probably didn’t hold the same appeal to a certain sleepy-eyed, messy-haired demon; but when it came down to it, life was about being what you wanted to be, about living up to your image of yourself. What Aziraphale considered to be a nice look was, to use one of Crowley’s more polite criticisms, pretty unique. But he didn’t mind if his code of dress was a bit antiquated. His favorite waistcoat had been tailored years ago to match his exact measurements, and the look of the finished product had been extremely satisfying then. It still was to this day, the style and comfort of it suiting his tastes perfectly, no matter what Crowley said about it being ‘out of fashion’. At least when he bent over, it didn’t feel like he was being sucked into a vacuum canister.

Aziraphale slowly lifted himself up from the agony of his crouch, taking a few deep breaths to let the pressure pass. Then, once he thought that he might have control over his skittered brain cells again, he stepped over to the shop window, pulled the blinds open and noticed a fetching sight out of the corner of his eye. Ruffled hair that shone red in the light of the sun, golden eyes and skin that was slightly flushed from nearly overwhelming amounts of desire.

Why did Crowley have to be so pleasant to look at?

The angel tried biting his lip to prevent himself from staring too long at the reflection, but he swiftly discovered that biting his lip made the whole image ten times sexier.

Why did everything have to be so sexy with Crowley?

Why, why, why?

That was all Aziraphale could think as he swallowed down devastating urges that he shouldn’t have been feeling this early in the morning. He had to stay calm, had to keep his faculties in working order until Crowley woke up and they could finally switch back. Too bad it seemed like every single thing he did was working against him today.

The way Crowley’s corporation looked in the dawning light of a new morning was so rare, so gorgeous. It only made Aziraphale want to undress him, and he would not take advantage of his demon in that way. It was abhorrent to even consider, and yet the temptation was there with every glimpse of that tall, lanky body. He didn’t even have to look at him to feel like he was being ushered down the less desirable path. The shirt he had on wasn’t loose, by any definition of the word. It felt like a second skin, much like Crowley’s jeans and his belt, which rubbed snugly against his middle with each faltering step he took. Aziraphale had never worn an ensemble this form-fitting before in his entire life, and the contact against his skin was surreal. He didn’t want to call it arousal, in case doing so broke open the floodgates, so he didn’t.

The angel’s morning was turning into an unbearable marathon of endurance that he hadn’t asked for. Everything about Crowley’s corporation made it a challenge just to think a single coherent thought, not to mention that if a thought _was_ formed then it couldn’t possibly be on any subject other than the state he was in. How was it possible for this body to tease and tempt when Crowley wasn’t even present? Maybe it was built into his corporation, a side effect of belonging to a demon for so many centuries, and if that was the case then maybe his clothes were behaving like that for the same reason. They weren’t made by human hands, but formed from the accumulation of raw cosmic energy. That would explain why they felt so unnaturally stuck to his body.

Skinny jeans were definitely a hellish item, whether they were real or snapped on by Crowley, and he wouldn’t have been surprised to discover that Crowley had invented the blasted things as well.

His clothing was extremely suffocating to wear, especially to an angel who was used to the easy comfort of looser articles. He plucked desperately at the front of his shirt, trying to get a bit of space between him and the fabric. _I wish he would wake up soon… I long to be reunited with my waistcoat…_

Aziraphale was sighing and shaking his head, because he suspected that Crowley wasn’t likely to regain consciousness until at least noon, when he heard a startled voice shout from upstairs. “Angel!? What the fuck!?” That was followed immediately by a loud thud and more creative curses that no angel should possibly know the meaning of. Aziraphale, however, had been around Crowley for centuries, and recognized just enough of the colorful language to make himself blush. The demon had fallen out of bed, that was his best guess, and what he was hissing to himself… well, it didn’t bear repeating.

The important thing was that he was awake. “Oh thank you Lord,” he found himself whispering before abruptly covering his mouth. To be sure, this whole exchange must be quite confusing for God to listen to, but Aziraphale was so grateful that he didn’t even spare a second thought towards Her bewilderment. His torment was soon to be over, and that was all he was focusing on. If he didn’t focus on that, then he would end up paying attention to other things that he really didn’t want to, er, add more Effort to.

“Owowowow…” Finally the swearing subsided, and Crowley practically snarled down the stairwell. “Hey, did we swap corporations last night!?”

“I think you already know the answer to that one, dearest.”

“I _thought_ we swapped back before bed!”

Aziraphale smiled wryly. That shape on Crowley’s face was relaxed, easy. It felt far more at home on demonic lips than it did on his own. “I would say not,” he called back, leaning in a very Crowley-like drape along the railing. “Why don’t you come down so we can figure this out?”

“Aaaagh! Fuck!” A heavy sigh carried down from the bedroom, and Crowley gradually started to calm down a little. His voice was less terse than before, and that was a good start. “Alright, okay. Yeah, sure, I’ll be down in a minute. Just gotta… Gimme a sec.”

Hearing his normal Aziraphale voice morph into something seductive, throaty and rough was interesting, to say the least. Crowley made him sound as if he were a rebel, a rapscallion even, and it was surprisingly thrilling. Aziraphale had never really thought of himself as anything along those lines, but the way Crowley spoke through him made it seem entirely possible. How the syllables rolled lazily, almost sloppily off his tongue, sweet like honey and ten times as rich, was utterly captivating.

“Right, ‘m coming down,” he said, and the angel couldn’t repress a shudder when he saw Crowley reach the top of the stairs. Even though his corporation wasn’t geared towards snakelike mannerisms, it looked like Crowley had figured out a way to manage it. He leaned his hip on the railing, allowing himself to slide down the length of it as Aziraphale hopped upright to avoid being crashed into. But, of course, Crowley smirked and jumped into his arms anyway, stumbling him back a few steps.

“What’re you doing? You have to catch me,” he drawled.

“Crowley, perhaps you might use a bit more caution while you’re in there?”

“If there’s one thing I noticed above everything else when we first tried this, it’s that you’re well built under all this pillowy softness.”

A half-teasing, half-sincere grin quirked his lips as he gazed up at him, reaching to run a thumb across the angel’s borrowed bottom lip. “My lovely, strong, handsome angel.”

That was a funny thing to say while staring at yourself, and Aziraphale could understand how bizarre it must feel to seductively touch your own bottom lip (he was holding himself in his arms, after all), but he didn’t want to diminish the moment. “And I could never stop myself from catching you,” he said, smiling kindly. “You are my sly, sweet, gorgeous demon.”

As he’d predicted, it didn’t feel much different on his end, either. To be sharing these sentiments while in different corporations was weird, almost foreign, although he did seem to be turning quite a bit hotter as a result of it. He wasn’t sweating, but the sudden swell of heat inside could very well make him do just that if it raised up one more degree. Everywhere Crowley touched seared his skin, and that was when they were fully clothed. Imagine if he wasn’t.

Bad idea. No, don’t imagine that. They had both agreed afterwards never to do it again, and he was holding fast to that decision. What he needed was to switch back so that they could proceed unhindered.

“Having some… problems, are we?”

Crowley gestured down lower, towards something that Aziraphale had been very close to ignoring all morning. It was growing worse with the application of all this burning desire, and he _really_ didn’t want to acknowledge that, but since it was being brought up he gave Crowley a tight smile. “It would seem we both are.”

“What’re you - ?” Blinking, he tilted his head down to stare at himself. “Shit. Never noticed it till now,” he grumbled, blushing profusely from the observation. “You didn’t have to point it out, angel. I was doin’ just fine up until you saw it.”

“I could say the same to you,” he said, lifting Crowley’s signature eyebrow. “But I wouldn’t expect a demon to adhere to a proper sense of propriety.”

Holding him close was becoming more and more uncomfortable for the current situation, so Aziraphale carefully lowered him down onto his feet. Crowley frowned deeply, his sigh laced with irritation. “Thanks for the newsflash, angel,” he sneered. “Am I to blame that nobody knows how to enjoy themselves anymore? Taking pleasure outta the little things in life is what I do. Oh, and by the way, don’t come at me with all that self-righteous bullshit. You aren’t one for _propriety_ , either.”

“Yes, well, at least I wear clothing that isn’t twenty sizes too small!”

“It’s stylish, and I like it!”

“Well, I don’t!”

“Then get out of me!”  
  
”You think I don’t want to!?”

Their faces came closer and closer with each scathing retort until Aziraphale felt their noses brush. He could feel hot breath on his lips, and the eyes that were glaring back at him were his, undeniably his, but there was something else there too. If he concentrated, he could see the flicker of demonic gold behind the warm blue of his corporation. He could see Crowley there.

It wasn’t good enough, to see him peeking from around the corner. He wanted to see Crowley properly. After an entire morning of suffering with no relief in sight, he just wanted _Crowley_. He wanted to be held, he wanted to be kissed, he wanted everything that he could not have like this. He wanted to be inside of his demon, but in a completely separate way.

The shift in his expression must have been obvious. Crowley moved forward with a fiery growl, hissing words from his lips that Aziraphale urgently wanted to hear. “Swap with me,” he rasped, staring hard into his eyes. “Right now, angel. Swap with me so I can just…”

He couldn’t have waited a second longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and say hi on Tumblr!
> 
> You can find me at my main blog [@refraingirl](https://refraingirl.tumblr.com/) or at my writing blog [@refraingirl-the-writer](https://refraingirl-the-writer.tumblr.com/)!


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